My Night
by Changeling Fey
Summary: Ven is the good kid, the one who makes the grade and never stays up too late. Terra is the opposite, the bad boy, the delinquent. But for the two of them, it's true what they say. Opposites really do attract. Rated for the future.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so, I am officially in love with the pairing of TerraVen. It is beyond cute. And I decided that it did not nearly have enough fanfiction to do it justice. My plan is to update this every Friday, with POSSIBLE updates in between. POSSIBLE. I figure if I give myself a deadline I'll get more done. Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely diddly-squat.**

Ven was determined to make the best of his new accomodations. That wouldn't be easy, of course, since all he really wanted was to move back to Destiny Island, where his friends and his school and his _dad_ were. But it wasn't as if that was the reality. _This_ was the reality. This tiny, cheap apartment in the city, that looked like shit and smelled like it too. He wasn't mad at his mom, he told himself over and over until the phrase became a mantra. It wasn't her fault she couldn't afford anything nicer, not with the lawyer to pay and the food to buy and the bills piling up on the kitchen counter.

However, it _was_ her fault she couldn't find some way to put up Ven's dad, so all of them could've kept up the facade of a happy family, and Ven could've kept his life.

_No, no, no, it's not her fault._

_It kinda is._

In the end it didn't matter if it was her fault or if it wasn't, because there wasn't any doing-over of the past.

Sighing, Ven wiggled the top drawer of his dresser free, and stuffed it full of underwear and socks, repeating the process until his suitcase was empty and every free space was filled. His bedroom was…big enough, he supposed. It was nothing more than a rickety twin bed with a few feet of floor that wasn't half the size needed for pacing, but…it was a place to sleep, and he could always do his homework in bed, or on the kitchen table.

Ven had to wait for his mom to get out of the single bathroom, but once she had he took the opportunity to shower and brush his teeth with the off-brand toothpaste and the tap water that tasted like a crime scene. He called out a "goodnight," and disappeared into his room without waiting for an answer. He'd have to go to school tomorrow, and he wanted nothing more than some sleep.

And even though it didn't come easy, he eventually got _some_, only to have his cell alarm start screeching just a couple hours later, demanding he get his lazy ass out of bed and get ready. He shut it off with a groan and a grimace, and shoved aside the threadbare blankets, tumbling onto the bare wooden floor, the boards cool and unwelcoming against his bare chest and feet. Dragging himself up and into the living area, he found his mom already up and at the stove, scrambling eggs with one hand and filling out forms with the other.

"Morning sweetheart," she cooed when she saw Ven stumble into the room, scratching at the mess of blond spikes atop his head. Her hair—the same blond shade—was already perfectly done-up into a no-nonsense bun, perfect for a day spent bent over phones and files. Her make-up was perfect too, her clothes spotless and fresh.

"Morning," Ven grumbled, swaying over to the fridge and pulling out the milk, sniffing suspiciously before pouring himself a glass.

"You ready for your first day of school?" his mom asked, as she pulled down a plate and loaded it with the eggs, passing him the salt and pepper along with it. Ven heaped on both before even bothering to hunt down a clean fork.

"No," he spat, trying only a little to conceal his distaste. He knew exactly what his mom was trying to do, getting up early to make breakfast. She was begging for his forgiveness, or, at the very least, his tolerance. He, for one, was reluctant to give it.

"Oh, it'll be fine dear, don't worry about anything," she pressed, flipping off the burner and reaching over to plant a quick kiss on his forehead. "Now, I have to get going. There's a lunch for you in the fridge, and the bus should come by in about,"—she checked the microwave clock—"half an hour. Call my cell if you need anything. Love you!"

And with that she was off, in a flurry of perfume and heels, the door locking automatically shut behind her. Ven tried to chase away the feeling of emptiness by shoveling down his eggs, but it didn't help any. They just reminded him more of home, and how his dad used to always make a big breakfast on Sunday mornings.

The eggs caught halfway down his throat, and he ended up scraping more than half of them down the drain.

Twenty minutes later he was waiting down by the bus stop, clean and dressed in faded jeans and a light green hoodie, his backpack—weighed down with notebooks and pens—hanging between his shoulderblades. The ride to school was…uneventful. Intolerable, but uneventful. Ven had moved into the neighborhood where the kids are loud and the streets reek of cigarette smoke. The entire way there, the kid next to him was spilling all over both seats, eating his way through a small third world country, and slobbering a good half of it onto Ven. But even that wasn't as bad as the cacophony of cussing and screeching and laughing emanating from the far back. Ven did his best to drown it out with his iPod, but the tiny earbuds couldn't compete, not even with his loudest, roughest music pounding through them.

By the time they got to the school, the tiny blond boy was about ready to go apeshit on some delinquent ass, but he drew all the frayed ends of his self-control back inside and began twisting them back together, keeping his shoulders tucked and his head down as he hunted down the main office, weaving through the pulsing, chattering student body.

Luckily for him, the school wasn't big enough to get too seriously lost in, so he found the office in plenty of time, and got through the ritual of name, age, address, phone number with time enough to spare to memorize his schedule before class started, and he was sucked back into the monotony of _school_.

**There'll be Terra in the next chapter, promise! This is just the set-up.**

**Review maybe? Please?**


	2. Chapter 2

**OMFGI'MSOSORRYASDKJGASDKGJASGL. BAD. YOU PROMISED THE GOOD PEOPLE. BADBADBAD. -FLAIL-**

**Basically, I underestimated NaNo. I didn't realize at all how hard it was going to be on my time and on my psyche. I'M SORRY. FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART. I SWEAR I WILL BE BETTER ABOUT THIS. **

**-is an awful person-**

The first thing Ven's mom told him, when she found out he was gay, was to never trust a beautiful man. And even though he hadn't understood _why_, at the time, she'd said that just loud enough for his father to hear in the next room.

That was why Ven didn't like Terra Black from the start. And of course, that was why he had nearly _every single_ class with the kid. Because that was his luck. He showed up to first period—AP English—just before the bell, and handed the card the secretary had given him to the teacher—Mr. Fair, who got up from his desk, quieted the class with just that simple action, and proceeded to write Ven's full name across only the right side of the chalkboard.

_Ventus White_

"Alright class," Fair started. His voice had the strangest quality of not-quite-sarcasm to it. "As is probably very obvious, we've got a new kid." The teacher tapped the board, beneath the scrawled name. "Ventus. Got a nickname? Ven? Tus?"

"Ven," Ven answered, trying to scan the class with some discretion. Nearly every pair of eyes were trained on him, and those that weren't were buried in the folds of their sleeves, down on the desks. This was when he first saw Terra, way in the back corner, sulking darkly at his desk, his head drooping back against the wall, his blue-blue eyes glazed and uninterested, half-lidded and shadowed with thick dark lashes. He was gorgeous. And he was the perfect picture of rebellion. Pierced lower lip, scuffed leather jacket, tight dark jeans. He was every bit Ven's antithesis.

"Well, Ven, why don't you take that seat in the back, next to Terra, Terra raise your hand," Mr. Fair encouraged. Reluctantly, Terra raised his hand about half an inch into the air. "Good, yeah, right there."

Ven nodded slightly, and hiked his backpack up a little higher, squeezing his way down the aisle to his assigned seat. He smiled just a little bit at Terra, because it was the polite thing to do, and because even though he didn't like the guy instinctively, he didn't want any enemies. He could smile and play nice till the end of time.

"Alright class, take out your books and flip to page to page 138. Yeah, the one with that nasty picture of a butterfly on it." Mr. Fair turned to Ven, every movement a gross exaggeration. "Uh, sorry Ven, but until I can get you a book, would you mind sharing with Terra?"

_Yes_. "No."

Ven scooted his desk to the side, and Terra did the same, sliding the open book to the edge of his desk. The teacher began reading, getting far more into I than the poem or the moment required.

"The butterfly, a cabbage-white,

His honest idiocy of flight,

Will never now, it is too late,

Master the art of flying straight,

Yet has—who knows so well as I?—

A just sense of how not to fly:

He lurches here and here by guess,

And God and hope and hopelessness,

Even the acrobatic swift

Has not his flying-crooked gift."

With the end of the poem there was a simultaneous _slam _of twenty-five books whooshing shut. Only Terra kept his copy open, squinting down at the words with his eyebrows drawn together and his forehead crumpled.

"Now," Mr. Fair said, hitching up against the chalkboard, no doubt covering his backside in chalkdust like an idiot. "What do you all think the butterfly symbolizes here?" Ven sighed internally. Sure, the guy was nice enough, and the class seemed to love him, but he was the most out-of-touch, harebrained teacher Ventus had ever met.

_I mean, why does it have to symbolize anything?_

_Terra was riding the exact same wavelength. "Can't it just be a butterfly?" he asked, looking up at Mr. Fair through a screen of dark, brooding lashes. "Why does it have to be anything but what it is?"_

"_Because this is English class," the teacher explained, a strange half smile pulling up his lips. His eyes were shining like crazy, and his dark hair stuck up in every direction imaginable. "Not tell-me-what-the-illustration's-of. Nothing can just be what it is. Anyone else?"_

_A very tall, unhealthily skinny boy perched in the front row answered without raising his hand or being called on. His voice was like the oil smoothing back his pale yellow-blond hair. Ven couldn't see his face, but he imagined it was haughty and proud. "It symbolizes man's journey through life, and how every choice he makes seems the wrong one at the time, even if they ultimately lead him to something wonderful."_

_Mr. Fair's half-smile became a full one, and he whirled around so he could start scribbling something across the blackboard, below where Ven's name still floated, disembodied. "Very good, Even."_

"_Kiss ass," Terra muttered just under his breath, toying with his lip ring in a way that made Ven wish he could be the one playing with it._

_Ven cracked a smile. Just a little one._


	3. Chapter 3

**SO YOU GUYS HAVE LEARNED HOW MUCH MY PROMISES ARE WORTH. /WRISTS. Anyway, I actually wrote this because I was procrastinating on something else that I actually NEED to be writing, and because I got a review earlier today from **_**HaruhiandHikaru**_**, which actually reminded me this thing existed xD I'll try and update more, but no promises. I do intend to finish it, but I don't know when that will happen. If you still want to read, go on ahead.**

**I own nothing.**

The rest of English passed uneventfully, as did French. Ven didn't have to do anything in Gym, since he didn't have a change of clothes. The teacher just grunted him over to the bleachers and said to watch the other kids play basketball. He had no problem with that. Terra was in the class and his shirt was a little tight. He was still probably an asshole, but he was a hot asshole.

After that was lunch, and even though Ven was the first one out of class, by the time he had dragged himself to his locker the hallways were nearly clear. He didn't want to go to the cafeteria; he was delaying the inevitable, stretching every moment he could. At least during class the teachers deigned where he sat, and next to whom. But at lunch, that was a choice left up to Ven. A choice that could be completely fatal.

So he dithered.

Ven was putting his books into the shelf up above his locker, slowly, one by one, when someone called out from a few feet behind him. "Hey Rox!" he called, laughter in his voice. Before Ven could turn around, tight arms encircled his waist.

It was obvious immediately that Ven's assailant was a man. His chest was flat and thin, his arms strong, and his cologne like a leaf fire. He had long flame-red hair that flashed in front of Ven's eyes and his breath smelled pleasantly of smoke. Ven didn't move, too scared to make a sound.

Only a moment later, the red-haired boy stiffened and jumped back. "You aren't Rox," he said, as Ven turned to face him.

Ven frowned, shaking his head. _This is one weird-ass school_. The boy was tall and very attractive, with a slight, tattooed face that seemed quick to grin. He was decked out in a punk array of leather and denim and chains. "No, I'm not," Ven said, edging his locker shut with his back. "You are?"

Before the boy could answer, a shout echoed down the hall. "Jesus Axel," a boy with a shining silver ponytail called. He was dressed like Axel, but toned down a couple notches. Still a lot of black and torn jeans, but he could easily fade into a crowd if it hadn't been for his hair. "Do you have to go around raping every blond kid you see?"

"Oh shut up, you ass," Axel yelled back, sending his middle finger flying up in the boy's direction. The boy laughed. Axel turned to Ven and ran a sheepish hand through his spiked hair, trying to smile non-threateningly. "Uhm, sorry about that. You look like…uhm…like my boyfriend. A lot."

"He does actually," the silver-haired boy said, drawing up to Axel's side. He was a couple of inches shorter, but still plenty taller than Ven. "It's sort of uncanny. I'm Riku, by the way," he added, holding out his hand.

Ven forced himself to smile genially and shook the offered hand, letting it go as quickly as he could. He didn't want any enemies, but he didn't exactly know if he wanted these guys as friends. "Ventus. Well, Ven. I'm new."

Axel made a choking sound and Riku let out a burst of laughter, slapping his friend on the back. "Do _not_ say 'I told you so,'" Axel threatened, his cheeks flaring red. Ven was confused, but too culture-shocked to ask.

"I'm not the one who gets to say that," Riku said, in his own defense, raising his hands in surrender. He was grinning like a bastard, his eyes shining aquamarine beneath his bangs. There was a ridiculous amount of pretty boys at this school. "That's Terra's privilege."

"Wait," Ven said, recognizing the name of the only person he sort-of-not-really knew. "You guys are Terra's friends?"

Axel shrugged, still stewing a bit. "Depends on the day. Hey, you have somewhere to eat?" Ven shook his head, before he realized what was happening. If Axel was asking, he was probably going to make an offer, and Ven might have to sit with all these damn beautiful boys, Terra included.

"Come with us then," Riku said, grabbing hold of Ven's elbow and hauling him down the hall towards the cafeteria. Ven tried to protest but the boy's were not taking no for an answer, and after all, he really didn't have anywhere else to sit.

The cafeteria was just as noisy and messy as any other of the hundreds across the country. Long pressboard tables, clustered kids, crappy food, and tile floors. Riku and Axel wove through it with the ease of practice, dragging Ven in their wake to the farthest table in the corner. There were only a dozen or so kids sitting there and plenty of space left over, so Ven really should have been able to find a seat that wasn't near Terra, but of course, with his luck, he ended up right across from the son of a bitch.

When Ven sat down, Terra looked up from his greasy triangle of pizza, and a pearl white smile broke out across his cheeks, lighting his face up like a carnival at night.

**Ending it there because I REALLY REALLY REALLY need to write that other thing I'm procrastinating on. -beats self- I'd appreciate a review if you have the time, sorry for the short chapter!**


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